Heat
by amy jonas
Summary: Heat between Jimmy and Yves


Heat By: Amy Jonas Rating: PG13 for sexual situation Category/Pairing: Jimmy/Yves Disclaimer: Not mine Summery: Heat between Jimmy and Yves  
  
Jimmy  
  
Normally I love being on a stakeout but right now there's a record-breaking heat wave. To top it off the AC in the van, which has never worked real well no matter what Frohike does to it, had cut out a little while ago. Even the front windows; which I opened; does nothing to provide any relief. It's like a sauna in here. My clothes are sticking to my body. Wiping the sweat from my face, I shift in my seat trying to find a more comfortable position but all it does is remind me how hot and sweaty I am.  
  
A soft sigh from the front of the van reminds me I am supposed to be helping Yves monitor the communications, but so far, the guys are cooling their heels waiting for the informant to arrive. I glance at her. She is sitting at the computer station, a bored expression on her face. Watching her, I wonder what she is thinking then I wonder how she could possible be comfortable wearing her leather jacket in this heat. I mean, I know it looks cool so to speak but.maybe I should suggest she take it off but she might take it the wrong way.  
  
Almost as if she heard my thoughts, she tears off the headset she is wearing and drops it with a mess of other electronics. Then she shrugs out of the leather jacket revealing a low cut black tank top and my heart practically stops. This is Yves' normal clothes so it should be no big deal, right? But the material is molded to her body, accentuating her slim waist and full breasts.  
  
I swallow, knowing I shouldn't be staring at her like this but I can't tear my eyes away. She flings her jacket aside then straightens her spine and rolls her head slowly back and forth, working the kinks out while her long black hair sways gently. Her face glows from a sheen of perspiration and I watch as a drop of sweat rolls down her beautiful face, curving down her slim neck to pool at the delicate hollow of her throat before sliding down to disappear between the swell of her breasts which are hidden by only a thin layer of spandex.  
  
I can't breathe and suddenly I'm thinking how much I want to taste her silky skin, to trail my tongue down the same path as that bead of sweat. God, it must be getting hotter 'cause I feel as if I'm burning up. I continue to watch unnoticed and Yves reaches behind her head causing her breasts to jut out as her fingers tangle in her hair; lifting the mass of curls off her neck and shoulders. She does something to it and when she's done, it's a messy pile atop her head. She makes a sound like a satisfied purr that makes me instantly hard. I imagine Yves making that sound as I slide my hands over her soft naked flesh; stroking her secret places. Oh God, she's turning to look at me!  
  
Yves  
  
The heat is oppressive and it's sweltering in this Godforsaken van. I should have known better then to wear leather and spandex when the temperature threatens to reach the triple digits. My apparel is soaked with sweat and sticking rather uncomfortably to my skin. I can barely breathe and I feel as if I am literally melting in this miserable excuse for a vehicle.  
  
Why did I let the Gunmen talk me into helping them when I could have been relaxing in my air-conditioned apartment sipping mint ice tea? Right, I remember. Jimmy asked me. Speaking of which, he has been strangely silent for the majority of the time we've been here. Maybe it's too hot even for him to talk.  
  
I turn around and discover him watching me with a raw intensity that catches me unawares. His face is flushed either from embarrassment or the heat; maybe both, I don't know. He turns swiftly away pretending great interest in a small red cooler on the floor. I watch him crouch down and my breath catches in my throat. The sight of Jimmy in a blue tee shirt shouldn't have such an effect on me, it's just a tee shirt; he wears them all the time. But his shirt is darkened from his sweat and it clings to him like a second skin, emphasizing the firm muscles in his broad back and shoulders.  
  
He lifts some equipment off the cooler. The hardware catches the edge of his shirt; dragging it up to expose an impressively flat abdomen. Muscles ripple under his shirt when he moves it aside. My mouth is suddenly dry and I pass my tongue over my lips. He glances at me then quickly looks away. Jimmy's' low frustrated, desperate groan causes electricity to shoot through every nerve ending in my body. I imagine him making that sound as I run my hands over his hard naked flesh; caressing his sensitive skin.  
  
He fishes two Mountain Dews from the tepid water of the cooler and I know he is going to offer me one. The last thing I want right now is a sickly- sweet, warm soda. He turns to me; this time his gaze meets mine. He has the same heat and lust in his eyes.  
  
"They're warm," he says, his voice low and husky with desire, "but they're wet."  
  
The End? 


End file.
